Waiting on the Windowsill
by weregrrl
Summary: Kagome and Sesshoumaru navigate the bumpy road that is modern day, mixed-race dating. Flash fiction/ficlet style.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: _Just a little flash with a little fluff(?)_**  
 ** _Enjoy!_**

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Kagome didn't want to go back to the Feudal Era, at least not quite yet. It had been three days since her last explosive fight with Inuyasha. She knew he would show up soon – this afternoon or tomorrow morning at an ungodly hour, most likely – to drag her back with him. And she would go. But she would curse him from the moment he showed his ridiculously adorable little face until she, inevitably, left for her time again.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy reuniting with her friends. She loved them – Inuyasha included. She'd step out of the well and hug Sango and kiss Shippo and Kirara, and that idiot Miroku would slap her on the arse as a familiar greeting. She would go to the village and listen to Kaede's stories and prepare new arrows, and sleep on a bed for one last night before heading out into the wilderness to locate jewel shards. She would probably enjoy herself and almost certainly sidestep death at least once. But she didn't want to leave this time! She needed a holiday! She just wanted to spend time with her boyfriend!

Kagome slumped onto her bed and growled. Actually, it was all _his_ fault she was shirking her duties, wasn't it? She could kill him! She...she _could_ kill him. After all, one demon was the same as any other, right? Just a little outburst of spiritual power and BOOM! Ashes. She still didn't have much control over herself. She'd burned his arm the last time they went to see fireworks together because she was so excited... Oh GOD!

"And now I'm terrified of my own sex life. Good one, Kagome," she muttered, rolling onto her stomach.

" _Excuse me?_ " a voice drifted down from her windowsill, startling her into an upright position. At first she had thought it was Inuyasha, but obviously the voice was different, as was the person sitting there. Kagome visibly relaxed.

"Just wondering why no one uses the door anymore," she replied tersely. Her visitor grinned.

"That would defy logic, seeing as my aim is to sneak you out and ravish you," he said, "but if my claws scare you so much that you're worried about being ripped apart during coitus-"

"Stop calling it that!" she moaned, "You said you'd stop calling it that!"

"I also said I wanted to kill you, but that was a long time ago."

"You promised you'd stop calling sex 'coitus' a month ago! When was the last time you actually wanted to kill me?" she demanded.

"Probably when you walked into the gallery and spilled tea all over my latest masterpiece," he inspected his claws innocently.

"You conceited little shit!" she exclaimed, jumping up, "What did you expect, scaring me like that?"

"All I said was 'hello'."

"Sesshoumaru!" she whined. The daiyoukai smirked again.

"Would you have preferred I whip you then and there?"

"You seem to whip me whether I approve of it or not," she muttered prudishly. Her paramour jumped from the windowsill. He stalked around Kagome, eyeing her sceptically, "Don't lie. You like it."

"Nah-uh," she stuck her nose up in the air. Sesshoumaru leaned down so their noses touched. He ran his claws down her side and she shivered.

"Yuh-huh," he teased. Kagome spared him a petulant glance.

"Okay, maybe a little bit," she admitted, but her expression remained sour.

He grinned, trailing his fingertips back up under her shirt.

"Only a bit?" he asked.

"A moderate amount," she admitted stiffly. His fingers found their way onto her breast, tweaking her nipple.

"Now you're just hurting my feelings," he whispered in her ear, gently biting on the lobe. Kagome let out a pitiful moan, "A lot. I like it a lot."

He grinned, beginning to suck on her neck as he taunted her body. Kagome cried out and pushed him away. Her face was red with anger, hands on her hips.

"I could purify you, you know?" she admonished. Sesshoumaru looked amused, "Kagome, it's not called 'Netflix and _Kill'_. Although I suppose that would be in keeping with the storyline of _Game of Thrones_."

"I'm being serious," she huffed, "I could accidentally..."

she didn't want to finish that sentence.

"And I'm being absolutely serious when I say you wouldn't." he rebuked.

"But I _could_ ," she let out weakly. He took a hold of her shoulders.

"But you _wouldn't_ ," he assured her, forcing her to look into his eyes and see the sincerity there. Her gaze flickered away and the couple were left in a contemplative silence.

"Will you just fuck me already before your brother shows up?" she asked finally. Sesshoumaru laughed.

"Gladly."

They tumbled to the floor and barely made it up again.

* * *

 **A/N: _I mean, it's an upload._**

 _Lucy~_


	2. Chapter 2

He was brunet and tan from his skin to his hair to his clothes. His aura, usually held tight to him had shrunk into an invisible ball of upset. There stood his brother, five hundred years younger and completely oblivious to the progress around him.

He had told Kagome the brothers were no longer on speaking terms and she had interpreted that as an invitation to invite the beast to dinner with her family. He would also be attending, but as his alter-ego Daisuke, the flirtatious, naïve, and very much _human_ artist.

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes and slowly breathed out, relishing in the fairly clear evening air. His baggy sweatshirt hung from him like a tarp, at ends with the sleek jeans he had chosen for the occasion. He looked very much the starving artist her pretended to be.

Before dinner, there were chores to keep his mind occupied, and then introductions once everyone had arrived.

"This is Daisuke, my friend from the gallery," Sesshoumaru nodded in his half-brother's direction, hands trembling in his pockets.

"Keh."

It was easy to read the subtle rejection in that non-statement. Jealousy and superiority burned hard in his little brother's eyes. The hanyou remained jumpy and patronising throughout dinner. Sesshoumaru ignored his antics, keeping his eyes on his plate. Keeping his teeth clenched.

He was no longer on speaking terms with his sibling, he had told Kagome. In this time, Inuyasha was long dead. He missed his scent. He missed his arrogance. He missed the man he had become.

He hadn't even managed to shake this boy's hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: _Enjoy!_**

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Kagome had a new weapon in her arsenal when she returned to the feudal era this time and it put her in dangerously good spirits. Even Inuyasha was doing his best to tiptoe around her in case the priestess suddenly went off. But she knew nothing could spoil her mood when they reached Kaede's hut and found a squawking Jaken running around after an oblivious Rin as she muddied her kimono searching for weeds by the rice paddies. Besides being absolutely hilarious and adorable, Rin meant Sesshoumaru was near, and sure enough there he was on the outskirts of town. She smirked at the young lord's seeming nonchalance as he stared out into the distance. She had every intention of changing his mood.

Skipping away from her (somewhat terrified) group, Kagome called out, "Lord Sesshoumaru?"

The demon glanced her way then back again, seemingly bored by the prospect of speaking with her. Kagome's grin widened marginally, "If you would my lord, I happened to notice that Rin will need to bathe later. May I gather clean clothing for her to wear?"

A slight incline of the head was her answer, "The supplies you will need are in the dragon's saddlebags," he offered. Rather generously, she was sure he thought, too. He, after all, _did not_ entertain humans.

A moment of rummaging later and Kagome had the clothing she was looking for, making to leave.

* * *

After bathing Rin that night, Kagome came back to the lord's camp wearing something that was not her school uniform for once. That it was Sesshoumaru's clothing fashioned into a short kimono sent ripples through the group. Jaken was in hysterics and the lord looked ready to kill, "You took that from me, miko."

Kagome nodded through a mouthful of rice, having invited herself to their dinner, "Yup."

His hands balled into fists, "What is the meaning of this? You have stolen my clothes under the guise of cleaning the girl."

Once more, Kagome spoke through a mouthful of rice, "No."

"No?" Sesshoumaru's eyebrows rose a fraction, his eyes glowing.

"No," she confirmed, bending down to grab a piece of fish, "I already had this with me at home."

"You stole it earlier? When? How?" the lord was becoming flustered, which only put Kagome in even better spirits. She sighed, "Sesshoumaru, I'm from the future. Just think about that for a moment."

And it was at this moment that he noticed the scent on his clothing, slight though it was. He recoiled instantly, "I refuse to believe what you are implying."

Kagome shrugged and patted his trembling hand, "Well, it's a good thing you don't have to believe it for it to be true, Sesshoumaru."

Just as he was trying to wrap his head around this disturbing revelation and what could have possibly led to it, the girl pressed herself close to him, whispering in his ear, "You think I'm _fucking hot_ in this by the way. Your words, not mine."

"I know what I think, miko," he rumbled. Kagome grinned at that, "Thanks honey. You always know just what to say!"

With a peck on his cheek and a giggle shared by Rin, she was back off to her group, before he could even react. The closer she came to him, the more he could smell it. _Sex_.

Sesshoumaru turned to look at the priestess prancing away from him. The makeshift kimono did highlight certain assets he hadn't noticed before.

 _No,_ he thought, _it would be a cold day in hell._

* * *

Kagome smirked at the last thing her beloved had said to her before she left, eyeing the school uniform on her bed sceptically, "It'll be a cold day in hell when I let you leave in that."

Kagome huffed, "I always wear my uniform to fight Shou. You know that."

The artist shook his head, "I know, but you look so much better in my clothes. It would go against my artistic integrity and the very laws of nature itself to allow you to take them off."

Kagome's eyebrows rose at that, "Are you telling me you'd want your younger self to watch me stomping around the countryside in his clothes, smelling of sex? You'd kill me!"

Sesshoumaru turned his head this way and that, taking in the sight of his girlfriend, "I mean, probably not."

"Probably not?" she scoffed. A slight smile graced his lips, "I might find myself too distracted to attempt it."

Kagome laughed, wrapping her arms around him, "Are you suggesting I tease you, Sesshoumaru?"

He took the opportunity to peck the little witch on her nose, "You always tease me. I see no difference either way."

* * *

 **A/N:** _ **I think I finally see where I'm going with this. I know chapter one was kind of rushed and I need to fix that, but I'm liking chapter 3.**_

 _ **Love,**_

 _ **Lucy~**_


	4. Chapter 4

He had known love before.

He had known it and watched it wither.

Sesshoumaru's eyes slipped close. He recalled the sunset the day he had confronted his father about his mistress. The words were long gone, mere background noise against that beautiful sky. Its strength had pulled a viciousness from him in that moment that he had yet to relive, and he struck at his beloved father with words full of hatred tinted the exact shade of that sunset.

He told him to think of his people. He accused him of betraying a courtship long since over. He blamed him for his own inability to stand against the children of the other lords. He had let every ounce of his pain pour forth in an inelegant slew of screams and slashes. He had wounded his father – not greatly, but enough to smell the blood leaving him; enough to marvel at the _red-silver-red-silver-grey_ of the fading day against stained skin.

Then he had left, and he had never seen his sire alive again.

Sesshoumaru stiffened at the slick feel of blood welling from claws pinched into his palms.

 _Red._

The only thing he hadn't done that day was tell the truth: that he was afraid. That he was inadequate and that those inadequacies had caused great harm and although his father was a strong lord, he was not infallible. He was on the path to making those same mistakes. In the end it had not mattered. The son had driven the father to his death, to his _Izayoi_ in the same way he had driven _her_ to die _._

Her name was Midoriko. She was a priestess. She loved him. He convinced her that she could be safe in this world.

She was not.

In the heat of a battle neither of them had wanted, she was taken. He chased after her, following the carnage laid before him. The path to her had stopped abruptly and though he could not see nor hear her, he felt the essence drain from her soul until it was gone. That was what he should have told his father – what his father had needed to hear. That mortals left holes in you no magic or willpower could overcome. That they would leave, and if you had any sense you would let them do this sooner rather than later. That they were easy to love because they were predators, ensnaring your heart with flowers swiftly given way to thorns. They left you broken. They were dangerous. You could not love one and hope to survive. And the lord hadn't.

Sesshoumaru felt barely more than a ghost most days himself. He managed hatred (especially towards those who had human blood thrumming through their veins), and occasionally graciousness, but never since Midoriko had he felt alive.

Understandably, the strange miko's earlier accusations were enough to send him into a rage, yet they did not. There was something about her that had always unsettled him. The smell of so many clung to her – not just on the outside, but within. They stuck to her aura, wafted on her breath, and if he could see it, he imagined they would be there imprinted on her very soul, clawing and claiming. He had no wish to fight those ready to possess the girl's body for their own ends and so her survival was paramount. At least until Midoriko's soul was at rest.

A wind whipped up from the south, blasting his hair into his face, sending chills across his back. He wondered what the miko's soul felt like underneath the others that hid it. A small part of him had always been curious to find out. Another instinct-preserving part of his mind knew the answer to the riddle of the time-travelling priestess already, but was too afraid to share its knowledge.

Loving mortals was a death sentence. Like any other living creature, Sesshoumaru instinctually avoided death.

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 **A/N: _I hope there aren't too many mistakes in this chapter. Please hit me up if you find anything that is obviously incorrect. I've been up all night with a sick dog (not the best time to edit)._**

 _ **Love,**_

 _ **Lucy~**_


	5. Chapter 5

Kagome jolted into a sprint as soon as she spied the field ahead. It was lovely, filled with tall feathered grass and flowering weeds. Truthfully, it reminded her of home. _Of her time._ In particular, it reminded her of one of Sesshoumaru's pieces.

They had been travelling for a month now, three weeks of which had included the Sesshoumaru that wasn't hers and countless instances of the undead version of herself that _wasn't her_ weaving in and out like a snake ready to strike. She didn't honestly see the resemblance between Kikyo and herself, other than their powers and odd taste in 'men', she supposed. She recalled faintly holding a grudge against the other priestess for a while, though that had been short-lived and more to do with her soul being ripped apart without much consequence rather than any blossoming feelings she may have held for the foul mouthed little mongrel she now gladly called a friend. In short, Kagome was feeling rather tense from expectations and assumed feelings; the looks of pity, annoyance, and in the case of the man she loved, not a glance at all. So when she had seen the familiar landscape, she ran without thinking, without caring that she had lost one of her shoes or that her skirt had ripped on a thorny shrub. Without thinking of what may be thought of her. She ran, and she twirled, and she laughed herself silly until eventually, she fell on her back and stared up at the autumn sky, panting.

She imagined being enveloped in loving arms, the symbolism of the painting explained to her in hushed tones, the duality of its nature discussed between kindred souls. She recalled her love mentioning that it had been one of his earlier pieces and to excuse the weak form as he had yet to grasp...well, not grasping everything so tightly in his claws. Kagome giggled at the memory. That had been the first time she had seen him look so self conscious. So unkempt and dissatisfied with himself. She couldn't imagine the _Great Lord Sesshoumaru_ feeling bad about anything he did, but then again, he had always shown a tendency towards perfectionism.

The priestess closed her eyes and sighed. If she lay like this, just this still, she could almost imagine the swaying grass was his hair. _Lord, how she missed him._

She wondered when he had started painting. Whenever she asked, he replied with the same, "Long enough ago to know that I am not a natural talent," which again, was something about him that made her grin even if it was evasive and she wanted to know absolutely everything about him, from his favourite colour (it was blue) to the oddest of his quirks (he was deathly afraid of milk and would convulse whenever it was presented to him. As it turned out, he was as lactose intolerant as any street dog).

Waiting for the others to catch up, Kagome hummed to herself and made a list of funny things she knew about Sesshoumaru that even _he_ probably didn't at this point in time:

 _One._ He was a terrible flirt. As in, he thought, "Can you take me home and feed me tonight?" was an appropriate pickup line (and had actually used it on her), but also in the sense that women swooned at his aloof demeanour, misreading it as sexual tension. Miroku would be awed by the sheer amount of females that Fitzwilliam Darcy kind of attitude could draw in modern Tokyo, but then she didn't want to give him any ideas.

 _Two._ He was wary of people. Almost afraid. Unless they had steak. He loved anyone who had steak for exactly as long as they held it in view. It drove him to distraction. She had once watched him walk into a light pole following a steak sandwich attached to a elementary schooler's hand. It had been quite amusing.

 _Three._ Despite this, he did not eat very often. She originally thought this was due to his heritage but when he had fallen over on her welcome mat and begged for scraps a few days into their relationship she realised he was...a bit of a ditz. He actually needed more food than his brother, if that was even possible. Not that Inuyasha _needed_ everything he ate, the greedy pig.

 _Four_. Four? Could she think of four things? She would feel really bad if she couldn't think of four traits of the man she loved... She supposed he couldn't read well, but... Oh! Yes, Kagome nodded to herself, he couldn't read very well. His tutors had tried their best, but the Western Lord was what they had deemed 'slow'. Kagome didn't think it was that strange. He was a dog after all. Well, obviously not a _dog_ dog. That would be gross. Not that she didn't like dogs. She loved them. She had begged for years to get one all her own but...that was totally irrelevant to Sesshoumaru, she supposed. He couldn't read and that was just fine. He had survived centuries without the ability to string letters together. If he expressed the wish to learn properly, she would help him, but until then, he was functionally illiterate.

"Kagome! Where are you, Kagome!"

That was Miroku's voice. And it was close. Kagome sighed.

 _Time to get back to reality._

She sat to wave down her friend.

"I just felt like taking a break, oh great pervy monk! Come join me!"

A thought came unbidden and quickly left again.

 _Five._ The field in his painting had always been splattered with blood, though he wouldn't tell her why.

* * *

Sesshoumaru looked on in silent horror at the field the miko had run to. He would never have taken this path if it wasn't for those weak humans and his stupid brother. He never wanted to set foot here again. The site before him was an abomination.

"My Lord?" Jaken pulled out in front of him. It occurred to the young lord that he had stopped walking and had been still for quite some time now judging by how far ahead the rest of the party was. He felt his muscles tightening, refusing to move even one step closer to the field, but his pride forced him forward. He took a halting step, then another, then several more. He kept walking until he reached the monk and priestess, who were considering camping in the area for the night.

"That is not an option."

He grabbed the protesting priestess by the arm, pulling her up and along with him. The others would follow her, as they always seemed wont to do. He felt the urge to vomit rise and fall within his chest with his heartbeat. He wasn't staying here.

"Bloody slave driver!"

Sesshoumaru heard the cry but did not heed it. He kept his eyes straight ahead, though his gaze was blurred and warped. The miko was regarding him with a shrewd gaze that made him uncomfortable. If he was in his right mind at that moment he might have thrown her into a tree, but he was terrified.

He really was going to vomit.

 _No!_ he thought.

No. It would not be like last time. It couldn't be.

He berated himself for not sealing the mountain path in the first place, though that would have required coming back up here. He felt his stomach heave once more as bile filled his throat. The hand that was gripping the priestess unintentionally tightened, his claws lightly piercing her skin. He didn't notice.

* * *

Kagome frowned. Firstly, her arm hurt, which almost offended her except that it could have killed her if not for the older, wiser Sesshoumaru very quickly making sure she was immune to his poison. Just in case. Kagome held her boyfriend in the highest esteem for his actions, but this was not her boyfriend. Well, he was, but he didn't know that yet. As far as she knew, he had convinced himself the kimono incident was a fever dream.

Secondly, he looked constipated. Emotionally constipated. Like he was in pain. From the way he had dragged her out of the field, and the field's similarities to his older, wiser counterpart's painting, Kagome had deduced that her older, wiser boyfriend and his younger, dumber self were hiding something from her. That being said, older, wiser Shou might actually be trying to tell her something. After all, she had seen the painting many times. He had brought her attention to it, even.

Something bad had happened here, or in a place so similar to this field that it may as well have been the same. Kagome's head started aching to match her arm. Much like maths, mysteries never sat quite well with her. She was absolutely certain that this was a mystery, and wittingly or not, older, wiser, still idiotic Shou had alerted her to its presence.

The miko sighed.

Just another fun day in the feudal era.

* * *

At the back of the group, Shippo smelled blood mingled with demonic poison. Fresh, human blood. The kitsune frowned, eyes zeroing in on Kagome. She was definitely injured. Her blood had started to stain the white of her uniform around Lord Sesshoumaru's deathly grip. She wasn't complaining though, and she wasn't dead. In fact, he could almost say she seemed...exasperated? How odd...

* * *

 ** _A/N: Yes, hello. I have a writing schedule. Or not. I have plenty of excuses for not uploading, none of which you haven't heard before. Please enjoy my late upload._**

 ** _Love,_**

 ** _Lucy~!_**


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